


Restless

by true_alpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Sexual Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/true_alpha/pseuds/true_alpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can never sit still. Like, ever. Not even, Derek discovers, when he's asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

Stiles moves around a lot. He waves his hands when he talks, drums his fingers against his thighs when he's sitting, fiddles with the radio constantly in the car. Derek shouldn't have been so surprised that this little quirk of Stiles' carried over when he was asleep, too. 

The first night Stiles sleeps over at the loft, he's a ball of over eager energy. Derek fucks it out of him (twice), rolls over, and grumbles for Stiles to, “lay still and go the fuck to sleep now.” 

“But I'm not tired!” Stiles whines back. He throws an arm over Derek and nips playfully at the back of the Alpha's neck. “Lemme suck your cock or something.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “With sweet talk like that, how can I resist?” he retorts dryly. “Go to sleep, Stiles. You have school tomorrow.”

“Who are you, my father?”

That earns Stiles a growl and a glare tossed over Derek's shoulder. Hmm. Maybe pushing Derek's buttons isn't the best idea when he's trying to get some sleep. 

But, then again, Stiles has never really followed the rules when it comes to Derek.

“Stiles, go to sleep before I knock you out,” Derek grumbles. He rolls back over, his back to Stiles. Stiles pouts for a moment before sighing loudly. 

“If you had just fucked me until I passed out, we won't be having this problem right now,” he complains, flopping back against the bed. “I think the problem here isn't my lack of sleep, it's your lack of performance in bed. Because really, if you were, ya know, if you were any sort of real Alpha, I'd be fucked out and unconscious by now, honestly–”

“For fuck's sake,” Derek snarls. He rolls over, practically jumping on Stiles, and kisses the smug grin off of the teen's mouth. 

 

When Stiles starts snoring, Derek sighs and relaxes. Finally, he can get some sleep. He rolls onto his side, pulls the blanket back up, and closes his eyes.

Smack. 

Derek snarls and flips over, a growl of, “Stiles,” already on his lips. Derek would suspect that the little shit is just screwing with him some more if he couldn't hear the even, steady thumping of Stiles heart. The teen is fast asleep. 

Grumbling, Derek settles back down – this time, facing Stiles. He watches Stiles for a moment before closing his eyes again. He's half asleep when a hand slaps across his face. 

He snarls and pushes Stiles' arm away, and then sits up. Stiles is shuffling around the bed, his arms flailing back and forth. Finally, he makes a quiet sort of whimper, flops onto his stomach, and settles again.

Derek watches the teen through narrowed eyes. Stiles is snoring and snuffling, dead to the world. Derek counts to one hundred, lays down, and hesitantly closes his eyes. It's not thirty seconds later when he gets another smack, this time against his neck. 

Snarling, Derek sits up, his eyes glowing red. The little shit. He can't even lay still while he's fucking unconscious. Derek's had enough of it. One way or another, he's getting a full night's sleep.

 

Stiles wakes up to a heavy weight, well, everywhere. He groans and tries to move, only to get a growl in response. He goes still, and then peers cautiously over his shoulder.

Derek is on top of him. Like, literally, on top of him. He's heavy as hell, too, with all of those muscles. Stiles tries to jab Derek in the stomach, but can't move either arm. 

“Get off me, you jerk,” he says loudly. Derek snorts a bit, shifts, and plasters himself entirely against Stiles' back. The teen grunts. “Ow! You're heavy, asshole! Get off!”

“You're never sleeping over again,” Derek grumbles back. “You aren't even still when you're asleep Stiles. You kept smacking me.”

Stiles snorts with pleased sounding laughter. “Did I really?” he says, and yeah, he's definitely pleased with himself. “I used to sleep walk when I was a kid. My dad used to lock my door 'cause I'd escape from the house and wander the neighborhood.”

Derek rolls his eyes, because yeah, that sounds like something Stiles would do. He grumbles some more as he settles back down, pressing his face into the crook of Stiles' neck and squeezing his arm around the teen. 

“So is this the way we have to sleep?” Stiles asks, squirming to get comfortable. “You know, you weigh, like, three hundred pounds and this isn't exactly comfortable for me. And you're sort of bony, too.”

“You kept fucking hitting me,” Derek replies. “Shut up and go back to sleep. You don't have to get up for a few more hours.”

Stiles keeps squirming, trying to find a comfortable way to lay with a werewolf on top of him. Derek makes a strangled noise suddenly and grips Stiles' arms. 

“Stop that,” he says, his voice thick and heady. Stiles goes still. 

“What? I–” He shifts again, and feels something hard against his hip. A slow, dirty grin spreads across his face. “Hey, Derek?”

“What?” Derek snaps back. Stiles squirms some more, and Derek lets out a low groan. 

“I think I'm okay with sleeping like this.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or kudos! Takes a second, means a lot! :)


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